


In Name

by acme146



Series: Team Goddamnit John [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU After Season 11, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Brother Feels, Canonical Child Abuse, Chuck and Amara Stay, Chuck is God, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Polyamorous Character, Resurrection, Team Free Will, casefic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-14 14:31:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13009833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acme146/pseuds/acme146
Summary: With Chuck and Amara made up, Sam, Dean and Cas decide to take a vacation. But on their way back, they find a case, and it hits close to home.





	1. Heaven's Alright

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is partly pure wish fulfillment and....yeah, wish fulfillment. Special thanks (or blame) goes to profound-boning (farawaystardust) and AWholeFleetOfShips for being enablers, and of course to the idjits who got me into SPN in the first place who have encouraged my rage.

            Dean looked up in shock as the dark and light clouds intermingled. There was a rumble, and he was standing in another place, with Sam and Cas beside him.

            “Dean?!”

Sam grabbed him first, hugging him tight as he could. Dean patted his back. “Okay, Sammy. Okay.”

            And somehow it was, after all. Somehow Amara and Chuck…they’d decided not to fight. They’d decided to be family instead. And Dean had somehow convinced them to do that.

            That was pretty awesome.

            So was the next moment, when Sam let go of him and Cas dragged him into a kiss that sent his head spinning. He clutched at Cas’ coat to stay upright, but Cas pulled him closer.

            Dean broke away at last. “Oxygen, babe, oxygen.”

            “Irrelevant.”

It was almost as hard to breathe now, clutched against Cas’ chest. But that didn’t really matter. He was alive, he was with his family…amazing.

“Um, can we have a group hug?”

Cas let go of Dean just long enough to drag Sam in too. “Of course.”

“This is a lot of hugging,” Dean complained.

“You admitted it about the chick-flick moments, dude. You can’t go back from that.”

Dean could feel Cas’ laugh, and he could barely manage a muttered ‘shut up’. Barely wanted to, honestly.

Something in the air shifted, and Cas stopped laughing. “Father.”

Dean looked up. Chuck was there, Amara beside him. They were both smiling hugely.

“Wait, I thought you guys were going to like…bond and stuff,” Dean said, confused.

“We did. Three millennia.” Amara looked more relaxed than Dean had ever seen her. She was wearing a bright flowered dress now, her nails multicoloured and her hair up in a bun.

“It’s only been five minutes,” Dean replied.

“Well of course!” Chuck looked surprised. “We just went to another dimension. We’ve got a lot of work to do here. I didn’t want to leave you in the lurch here.”

“Wait.” Sam looked at Dean. “What did happen?”

Dean thought about how to explain it best. “They’re family.”

“Oh. Okay, great!” Sam smiled at Chuck, and nodded a bit nervously to Amara. “I’m happy for you.”

“Sorry about trying to kill you, Sam.” Amara looked genuinely regretful.

“Eh, it’s alright. It’s happened.”

Dean pressed his lips together. “Not funny, Sammy.”

“It’s hilarious.” Sam grinned at him.

“Children,” Chuck scolded.

Amara looked at Cas next. “And nephew…I didn’t want to damage you, did I—”

“No. You never touched me. Lucifer kept any reverberations from my Grace.”

“Assbutt wouldn’t have had to if he hadn’t worn you to prom.”

“Lucifer will be dealt with,” Chuck promised. His voice was softer than Amara’s. “I caused a great deal of his problems, and I let him run amuck. He will be punished, but when that is done, if he seeks forgiveness he will be granted it.”  

“I don’t mind.” Dean was shocked to hear that from Sam.

“Wait, really?”

“Is he ever going to be able to hurt me or my family again?” Sam asked.

“No.” It was Amara who said that, and Chuck nodded.

“Then I don’t care. Just make sure of that.” Sam paused. “Please.”

“We can do you one better,” Chuck said. He reached towards Sam. Sam tensed, but allowed Chuck to touch his face. Dean _saw_ the hurt bleeding out of his brother, saw him calm. Sam pressed a hand to his stomach, stared at Chuck in wonder.

“You needed to be healed, Sam. And I’m sorry it didn’t come sooner.”

“That’s okay,” Sam managed. He was trembling now, but smiling, and Dean’s heart ached. He hadn’t seen Sammy smile like that in years.

Amara reached out to Cas. “Here, nephew. Your wings are hurt.”

There was a flash of light—so bright Dean couldn’t look—and Cas stood tall, looking as surprised as Sam. “Thank you, Aunt.”

“It’s the least I could do, Castiel.”

“We’ll deal with Heaven too, Cas.” Chuck looked more relaxed now. “Your brothers and sisters will understand what you have done and why, and they will welcome you home. You won’t be living there, though.”

Cas looked stricken, but Dean’s heart was pounding. Did Chuck mean…

“You’re welcome to visit, but I have a very important mission for you. I believe two men need a guardian angel. Can you follow orders this time, Castiel?” Chuck’s eyes were dancing, and Sam laughed.

“I think Dean needs him more than I do.”

            “Neither of you are good at taking care of yourselves,” Cas contradicted him. “I’m happy to guard you both. I will follow orders, Father.”

            “It’ll be great to have you Cas.” Sam smirked. “And you can have Dean’s back. Or have him on his back.”

            Dean blushed. “Damn it, Sammy, you can’t just—”

            “Seven years. Seven years, Dean.”

            “To be fair I was dead for some of that time,” Cas pointed out.

            “And we were in Purgatory.”

            “See I figured that would help. Just you, Cas, Benny and endless woods.”

            “Not to mention _endless monsters.”_

            “We have to go,” Amara interrupted. “Heaven is calling, as is Hell.”

            “Right, sister, of course.” Chuck put his hand on Cas’ shoulder for a moment, and father and son shared a long look. Cas drew in a sharp breath.

            “You should tell them.”

            “No, you go ahead. You deserve to.” Chuck stepped back and took Amara’s hand. “Farewell, Team Free Will. We may see you again.” The two dissolved into clouds again, and this time Dean watched as they went into the sky once more.

            Sam let out a huge breath. “That was…wow.”

            “Awesome,” Dean agreed. “Cas, what did he tell you?”

            He was struck by the light in his—boyfriend? Lover?—his Cas’ eyes.

            “My Father has decided to return some people to Earth.”

            Dean’s heart started pounding. “Some people?”

            “Your family. Your friends. Several other innocents who have died.”

            “R-really?” Sam’s smile grew bigger, somehow.

            “Yes. It will take time, and some…negotiation with the Reapers. But they will return.”

            “They’re coming back?” Mom was the first one who popped into Dean’s head. And Bobby, Charlie, Kevin, Ellen, Jo, Ash…

            “Yes, dearest. All of them.”

            Dean couldn’t speak. He pulled Cas and Sam into his arms, and let the relief of the Darkness’ presence being gone, of not having the Mark, of the world maybe, maybe being safe for the first time from powers beyond their pay grade.

            “So you’re good with the group hugs now?” Sam asked, his voice muffled.

            “Shut up, bitch.”

            “Jerk.”

            When they pulled apart at last, they looked around themselves properly for the first time. Dean recognized it—it was a road about forty-five minutes outside of Lebanon. Baby was there too, parked and gleaming in the sunshine.

            “Let’s go home,” Dean said. “We’ve got work to do.”


	2. Pleasant Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's been doing nerd library things, and Dean and Cas have a plan.

“Sammy, we’re back!”

            Sam looked up from the catalogue. “In the library!”

            It was four weeks after the sun was saved, and Sam had made a decent amount of progress. Going through the Bunker’s catalogue and making sure that they still had all the books (and that they were where they were supposed to be) wasn’t so hard, but digitizing the books was taking longer. It wasn’t just that finding a good scanner and filling out enough fake credit card applications that he could buy one (and then drive two hours to pick it up) took time, but he kept getting distracted. There was so much new information here, and some of the books were so interesting that he ended up reading several chapters instead of scanning the pages.

            Not that it really mattered. The others would be here soon, and Sam knew that Charlie for sure would be really into this part.

            It still blew Sam away that people were really coming back. But it was happening; Cas had gone to visit Heaven once a week, and each time he reported on the progress with bringing their family back. To their surprise, Billie had agreed to let it happen. The real trick was balancing the energies of souls leaving Heaven. Cas had attempted to explain until Sam and Dean had begged him to stop.

            In the end, the solution was just to have two people come back at a time. It wasn’t just their family; there were other people coming back (Sam wanted to know how they were going to explain that, but Cas asked, and the response to that hurt his head even more). So it would take time, but Chuck promised that by the end of six months, their entire family would be home. They had a list of names, and a letter signed by all of the returning saying they were happy to come home, yes they knew everything, and that they didn’t want to hear any damn apologies.

            (That particular statement had been bolded, underlined, circled and initialed by all).

            So the three of them had been a little bit at a loss the first few weeks. Sure, it was great to sleep in and watch crappy Netflix (and good Netflix) and finally get around to organizing the Bunker, but something stopped them from getting too deeply into any project.

            For the first time, they could plan projects and know that people were going to be there to help contribute. And there were no major bad guys to deal with, either. In fact, the supernatural world had been very quiet lately (Crowley had called late one night and muttered something about Hell being back under control, and Rowena chimed in that the ‘Mega-Coven’ was finally getting off the ground).  

            Dean’s solution was to start setting up rooms. He’d cleaned Kevin and Charlie’s room and bought them some updated geek gear, and set aside rooms for the other people coming home who’d never seen the Bunker. Cas had been darting in and out with groceries, making sure they were fully stocked. He’d also disappeared into the store rooms a few times, and apart from a couple of crashes there’d been a lot of progress. There were now neat notecards for three shelves of artifacts. Only seventy-five to go, but they’d be there to take care of that.

            And so were the others.

            Dean and Cas came in, holding hands. Sam still wasn’t used to that; he was partly sure he was dreaming. But it was real, Dean and Cas were smiling and happy, very much in love, and there was _so much less eyesex._ And Cas had even soundproofed their room after that one time.

            “What you reading?”

            “Treatise on church use in hunting,” Sam said. “Looks like we weren’t the first to take advantage of sacred ground to kill a ghost.”

            “Probably the first to kill a racist possessed truck though, right?”

            “So far, yeah.” Sam put the book down. “So what did you two get up to?”

            Dean opened his mouth and Sam inserted hastily “that I want to hear.”

            “Child,” Dean sniffed. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

            “Yes you _do.”_

Dean shrugged. “Whatever. We mostly just drove, and we had an idea.”

            “We want to go for a road trip, Sam.” Cas said. “One without a hunt. Dean was telling me about the times you went as young adults, and they sound fun. I’m also eager to see more of the country than several thousand Biggersons.”

            “Oh, that’s a great idea!” Sam ignored the disappointment in his chest. Some quiet might be nice, after all. “Where are you thinking?”

            “Well, obviously we want to be home for—well, when everyone starts to come back. So not far. Maybe down to California? Go to the beach?”

            “Yeah. I can give you a list of great places there.” He’d travelled a lot with Jess the summer before their fourth year.

            “Cool. Go start packing, I’m making burgers.”

            “Oh. What?”

            “Do you not want to come?”

            “I thought you meant you and Cas. Like a…a romantic trip or something.”

            “And leave you alone? Sammy, you won’t get fresh air if we leave you.” Dean smiled fondly at Cas. “He’s like a puppy. He forgets how doors work.”

            “Bite me.” Sam straightened the treatise. “I don’t know, I just thought…”

            “We need a Team Free Will trip before we do anything else.” Dean’s face softened. “It’s been a rough few years for all three of us. It’d be nice to have a break.”

            “Sounds good.” Sam stood. “So burgers?”

            “Yup. And fries. I got some potatoes and I’m gonna make some from scratch. Now go get packed. We’re gonna leave early tomorrow morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This will be updated every three days, and it has already been completely written.   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	3. Lady in White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Free Will's Vacation gets an unpleasant interruption.

            Cas smiled at the desk agent. “Two rooms, please.”

            It was nearing sunset, and they’d finally found a hotel. Cas had rejected every motel they’d driven by. This was a vacation, not a hunt, and they weren’t staying anywhere that didn’t have at least three stars.

            If Cas had his way, they’d never stay in a motel ever again, but Sam and Dean had their habits.

            “That’s our last two,” the woman said cheerfully. As she was cutting the keycards, her eyes looked over to Sam and Dean. “Are you three reporters?”

            “No,” Cas replied politely. “We’re just on vacation.”

            “You didn’t look like reporters,” the woman admitted. She handed him the keys. “But that’s all that’s been in today.”

            “Really? What about?”

            The woman leaned forward. “Well, it’s kind of sad, actually. There’s been two deaths in Joshua. It’s not far from here, but it’s such a little town there’s nowhere to stay there.”

            “I am sorry to hear that,” Cas said. And he was, for more reason than one. “Why all of the media interest in this tragedy?”

            “There hasn’t been a murder in Joshua. Like, ever. And two so close together?”

            Cas swallowed. “Has this been on the news?”

            The woman handed him a newspaper. “The first one happened last week, and the second was three days ago.”

            “Thank you.” Cas took a glance at the first few paragraphs. He fought the urge to slam the paper down, to burn it.

            This was supposed to be a _vacation_.

            When he rejoined the brothers, he was tempted to say nothing. But of course, Dean could tell something was wrong.

            “What is it Cas? Not enough rooms?”

            “No, no. Come on, they’re next door to each other.”

            “How next door?” Sam asked.

            Dean glared at him. “We’re not _that_ loud.”

            “I didn’t say you were loud. I said I could _hear_ you.”

            Cas let his thoughts wander as they bickered. Perhaps it was only a serial killer—well, serial was three, so a double murderer. Perhaps there was nothing supernatural about it.

            But as they’d been driving he’d felt a bit of a tug in his Grace, a warning. He’d prayed about it, and his Father had answered for once. It hadn’t been helpful.

            _Let it happen, Castiel._

Because that, of course, wasn’t mildly terrifying at all.

            Threats to come up to Heaven and demand answers hadn’t provoked his Father, but there was no further information.

            Cas knew he was being selfish. He just wanted to be able to relax with his mate and his best friend. To spend some time with them in peace after all of the forces that had tried to pull them apart. Apparently that was asking too much.

            When Dean put a hand on his neck, he jumped.

            “Babe,” Dean said seriously. “Can we go inside?”

            Cas realized he was frowning at a hotel door. Sam looked concerned.

            “Sorry.” He swiped the key and entered.

            It was a nice room, clean with two queen beds. Cas put his bag down and Dean did the same.

            “Can I have my room key, Cas?” Sam asked softly.

            “In a second, Sammy. Cas, what’s wrong? Did the desk lady say something to upset you?”

            Cas took Dean’s hand. “No, dearest. Well, she did, but not intentionally.”

            “Cas…”

            Cas handed Dean the newspaper. The article was splashed all over the front page, and Sam stood over Dean’s shoulder to read it.

            “Well that sucks.” Then Dean read the article again. “Wait a minute.”

            Cas groaned. He wasn’t a very good hunter, but even he’d noticed the pattern.

            “That looks like a woman in white,” Sam said. “Look; both men’s bodies were found by the highway, leading out to an abandoned house.”

            “It may not be,” Cas said. “The desk agent says there hadn’t been a murder in fifty years. Isn’t that odd for a woman in white?”

            “Not necessarily.” Sam was now deep in thought. “They don’t have to kill all the time. Maybe there aren’t a lot of unfaithful dudes in this town.”

            Dean noticed the trouble in Cas’ face. “Cas? What’s wrong? This is just a ghost, we’ve done this a lot.”

            “I was hoping we would be taking a vacation.” Cas sighed. “I didn’t want the supernatural to intrude upon that.”

            “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to, honey.”

            “Don’t be ridiculous.” Cas got himself under control. “We can’t allow people to suffer when we can help.” He touched Dean’s face. “Besides, I want to practice hunting more anyways.”

            Sam laughed. “You did a pretty decent job last time, Cas.”

            “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Cas? You look worried.”

            He’d promised not to lie to Dean anymore. “I feel like something is going to happen. Something bad.”

            “Has your—has Chu—has anyone said anything?”

            “He told me to let it happen. Which means that it can’t be that bad, because he promised you two would be okay. Perhaps it’s just going to end up with one of you injured. Again.”

            “Yeah, but my angel can heal us,” Dean said with a grin. “Remember? It won’t be like before.”

            That made something in Cas’ heart unclench. All those years of sitting helpless as Sam and Dean suffered, unable to heal them fully, unable to shoulder their pain…those were over too.

            Adjusting to good things was sometimes just as hard as adjusting to bad.

            “You’re right. Joshua isn’t far from here, and we’ll have a couple of days before we have to drive home.”

            Dean grinned. “Exactly. It’ll be good to get an old-fashioned one under our belts, anyways.”

            Cas tried to be positive through the rest of the night, eating room service and watching _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ before Sam went to bed. Dean was tired, and they exchanged only a few kisses before he fell asleep.

            Cas had no need to sleep, and as he held Dean against his chest he looked up at the ceiling. _Father, please answer me. Please don’t make me lose them._

There was silence for a while, and then: _let it happen, Castiel._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that we won't get to the good part until after Christmas at this rate, so I will be updating daily until then! (This is, after all, supposed to be a holiday present).  
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	4. Investigation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean interviews the father of one of the victims, and Sam and Cas interview the second victim's wife. They discover a surprising connection.

            “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr. Grant.”

            Dean was sitting on a porch in Joshua, feeling much more awkward than usual. He’d gotten used to dealing with grieving people over the years, though it was never easy. But this man’s grief was radiating from him with an intensity Dean had never seen before.

            “I appreciate the condolences, Mr. Novak.” Eric Grant was in his early sixties, but Dean guessed that without grief weighing him down, he wouldn’t look a day over forty-five. Far too young to bury a child.

            “So you were sent by which paper again?”

            “It’s a blog, actually. My brother likes to write about California small towns, and he’s always hated the fact that crimes go cold in small towns because of lack of interest.”

            Mr. Grant sighed. “My wife died when my boys were young. It’s always been the three of us. I thought it always would be.”

            “And your son James was the first…the first man who died?”

            “Yes. He was such a good kid. Always loved tinkering with things.” There was a momentary expression of pride on his face. “He got out of here, you know. Made it all the way to college. But he came back to visit me and his brother every chance he could.”

            “Did he ever have a girlfriend?”

            “No, but he’s had a few boyfriends.” Eric looked him in the eye. “Got a problem with that?”

            “No sir,” Dean promised. “I’ve got a boyfriend of my own.”

            Eric relaxed. “I never had a problem either. Some people in this town did, but they came around eventually, or I knew the reasons why.”

            “Was he dating anyone…recently?”

            “Nope. There’s not a lot of out people around here, and James was here all summer. He broke up with his last boyfriend a few months ago because he wanted to come home, and Buck didn’t want to follow.” Eric’s eyes filled with tears. “And he came home to…”

            Dean winced. “His story will be told, sir. And I promise the answer will be found.”

            “I appreciate that.” Eric rocked back in his chair for a minute. When he’d regained composure, he said, “may as well get it over with. What do you want to know about Tyler?”

            “Tyler Thompson?” Dean asked in surprise. “Did you know him?”

            Eric narrowed his eyes. “Of course I do. He is—was—my younger son.”

************

            “So Tyler changed his name when you got married?” Sam asked. He and Cas exchanged a look.

            Rita Thompson was wrapped in a too-big robe, holding a too-big mug in shaking fingers. She was still crying, she hadn’t stopped since they’d come in the house. Her daughter slept in a bassinet on the counter, arms around a purple dog.

            “Yes,” Rita answered at last. “I didn’t want to change mine, and he respected that. But he said he wanted to—he wanted to show the world he was mine. So he was Tyler Thompson, and our daughter has my name.”

            “Tyler sounds like a great guy.”

            “He really was. He was the best man I’ve ever known. He was always so gentle, but strong too. He could lift me over his head, and that’s high.”

            Sam had noticed the doors when they came in; he hadn’t had to duck. “Did he build this house?”

            That brought a small smile. “He just adjusted all the doors. He was six-five. He said he was sorry when Jill was born—she was almost eleven pounds, and he was worried she’d inherited his height.” The tears were still flowing, slow and steady. Sam remembered crying like that after Jess died, endless tears for three days while Dean took care of him. After that, he lost the ability to cry that long.

            “Rita?”

            Sam looked up. Another man had just come in the back door, a little bit shorter than Cas. Cas tensed beside Sam as the stranger pressed a kiss to Rita’s cheek.

            The newcomer looked at them coldly. “I swear to God, if you’re reporters—”

            “Isaac, don’t. They’re…they’re nice.” Rita patted his arm. “I promise.”

            Isaac still didn’t look friendly.

            “We can leave, if you want,” Cas offered. “I understand you need time as a family to grieve.”

            “Family?” Isaac’s stared at Rita. “Did you tell them?!”

            “No,” Rita whispered. “I didn’t.”

            Then Isaac seemed to deflate, sagging against the counter with his arm around Rita. “Guess I kind of did.” He glared at the two of them. “Don’t you fucking print this.”

            “Print…what?” Sam asked.

            Rita took Isaac’s hand. “We were all together. The three of us.”

            “Oh.” Sam took a second. “Did you change your name too, Isaac?”

            “No.” Isaac half-laughed. “Obviously we couldn’t all get married. And it was easier for Rita and Tyler; I have some…unpleasant family members. They wouldn’t like it if I suddenly married a man, and even Rita’s not right for them.”

            “I offend their racist sensibilities,” Rita explained. “ ‘Indian’s only one step up from a black woman,’ apparently.”

            Sam hadn’t even noticed, but now that she’d pointed it out he noticed the high cheekbones, the narrow brown eyes, the darker skin.  

            “I’m sorry for your loss, Isaac.”

            Isaac just nodded. He laid his cheek against Rita’s hair and closed his eyes.

            “Did anyone know about you three?”

            “We’ve tried to keep it quiet for Isaac’s sake,” Rita answered. Jill started to fuss, and Rita reached over, resettled the dog. “But Tyler’s dad knew, and some of my friends.”

            “Have you ever been publicly affectionate?” Cas asked.

            “Not really. Hugs, and that, but like I said, we’ve been quiet about it. Why do you ask?”

            To Sam’s surprise, Cas told the truth. Well, part of the truth.

            “Sam’s brother is my lover. He’s here as well, and…it’s always a risk, you know?”

            “Don’t worry about that around here,” Isaac said. “My family lives a ways away, and I don’t even think they’d be violent. The only reason I don’t tell them all to go to hell is that my dad would never let me see my mom again, and she’s sick. I don’t want to lose what time I have left with her. But you’ll be okay.”

            “Thank you.” Cas shook hands with both of them. “Do either of you need anything right now? Other than to be left to grieve in private?”

            Rita trembled and closed her eyes.

            “We’re alright,” Isaac said hoarsely. “At least we will be.”

            Sam took out one of his new cards. “Let us know if you need anything at all. We’ll probably be around a couple more days.”

            When they got outside, Sam took a deep breath, but the weight of Rita and Isaac’s grief still lingered. He was about to ask Cas what he thought about this development, when he got a text from Dean.

            _They’re brothers._

_I know._

_Now what?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for Rita, she's a Native American "Indian", not someone from India. I am not one, and I'm actually Canadian and the accepted terms here are different than in the States, but she was using 'Indian' in the derogatory way of Isaac's family.   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	5. Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Free Will digs deeper to solve this strange case. What are they missing?

            Cas laid on the bed, newspapers spread out around him. There were only four newspapers in a twenty-mile radius, but they carried plenty of local gossip. But apart from an interesting article about a local beekeeper association, there was nothing relevant to him.

            Dean was sitting on the floor (he’d protested but Cas had really needed the full bed, if only for a moment), and he was on the phone with the morgue.

            “Alright yes, I understand. Thank you for your time.” Dean hung up and sighed. “Tyler and James were both found with their shirts open, and the wounds are consistent with Woman in White victims.”

            “But neither of them cheated?” Cas said.

            “James didn’t have anyone to cheat _on_ ,” Dean confirmed. “I know dads don’t know everything about their sons, but they seemed really close. And Sam’s pretty damn sure about Tyler too. He had a wife _and_ a guy.”

            “Then perhaps these men were simply killed by some sort of serial killer. Rita and Isaac mentioned trouble with Isaac’s family.”

            “Did some checking on Facebook for them. They were all miles away at a family reunion. Guess Isaac didn’t make the cut.” Dean’s jaw clenched. “Could be someone else, but…”

            The hotel door opened to Sam, his laptop under his arm and holding a takeout bag. “I stopped by the diner,” he explained. “They actually had a Cobb salad.”

            “Any luck at the library?”

            Sam took out his salad and tossed the rest of the bag to Cas. “A weird kind of luck. But here’s the thing—I went to the scene too.”

            “Sam!” Dean stopped unwrapping the burger. “That could have been—”

            “I’m not with anyone, Dean.” Sam didn’t seem riled. “And I didn’t go to the scene of the bodies, just along the road. And EMF readings…it was going bonkers. There’s been ghost activity down there for sure.”

            “So maybe it’s a vengeful spirit,” Cas theorized. “Perhaps it has something to do with their father?”

            Sam shook his head. “I still think it was a Woman in White, but…kinda different. When I was at the library I went pretty deep into the weeds, and I think I found her.” He opened his laptop. On the screen was a picture of a woman in late 19th century clothes.

            “Her name was Prudence Jennings. She lived a couple of towns over. In 1891, her children were reported dead, and her death day is the same date.”

            “So you think it’s the classic Woman in White scenario?” Cas asked. “She killed her children because her husband was unfaithful?”

            “Yeah, but get this. I went into the archives, and man, those people save _everything._ If I was actually running a blog I’d want access. But I found Temperance Morris’ diary. She was Prudence’s sister—”

            “Those names are made up, right?”

            Sam ignored Dean. “Temperance wrote that her sister’s husband wasn’t fond of women, even if he’d given her two children. She hinted that maybe Mr. Jennings was sleeping with…well, a man.”

            “Ah. That’s more complicated.”

            “Is it?” Sam asked. “I mean, it’s still murder-suicide because of infidelity. And there were cases back in the 30s and 40s in this area of Woman in White activity. At least there were murders of men, and some of them were…uh, ‘known homosexuals’”.

            Cas winced. “So she’s going after unfaithful gay men.”

            “Yeah. The last one was in Joshua in 1951, and it was a man who was out. Apparently it broke his partner’s heart when he went missing.”

            “That’s still a long time between kills,” Dean said. “Maybe another hunter wasted her?”

            “I don’t think so,” Sam said. He took out John’s journal.

            Cas scowled.

            “Dad—he wrote about this case. It’s just a small paragraph, but it mentioned Prudence’s sister, that’s how I got onto the journal. He marked it possible Woman in White, but he marked it cold too.”

            Cas leaned back. They’d only had the one conversation about John, and he was still a touchy subject. “Is that possible? For Women in White to stop?” _Your father cannot be trusted._

            “She could have moved on, maybe? That would be really hard, but maybe she got up the courage to go home with her children.”

            “So let’s say it is Prudence. Why did she go after Tyler and James? Neither of them have been unfaithful.”

            “But they’re both men who have been in relationships with men,” Cas said. “And Tyler is married to a woman and carrying on a relationship with a man. Even if the three are in agreement…”

            “That might be enough.”

            “So there hasn’t been anyone gay or unfaithful in this town since the 40s? Is that even possible?”

            “We’ve got to rule it out, I guess. There definitely haven’t been any murders.”

            “This seems fake.”

            “How cynical you two are,” Cas said.

            “Are your angel senses telling you anything?” Dean asked.

            Cas rolled his eyes, but he nodded. “I believe the records in this town are honest, and I don’t sense anything odd. But I’m still getting used to having my powers again, and some of what I sense isn’t making…sense.”

            “What, exactly?”

            Cas reached out again, like he’d been doing for the last two hours. “I believe there is a ghost, and they have…they have a grudge. But that’s all I know. I’m sorry. I can go fly out.”

            “We might need you for something else,” Sam said. “If it is a Woman in White, we should do our best to lure her out. And that means someone queer needs to cheat on their partner.” He smiled at Cas and Dean.

            “Do you think that’ll work?” Dean asked.

            “I promise I won’t do anything to betray you, Dean,” Cas said gently. “I will only go as far as absolutely necessary. Do you know where Prudence’s house was, Sam?”

            “Yup. It’s right along the road I drove earlier. There’s not much left of it, but that’s fine. It’ll work for what we need to do. If you’re going to be the bait, Cas, why don’t Dean and I run out there earlier? That way we can wait there for you.”

            “Alright. Should we do this tonight?”

            “May as well. We should start heading home soon. And it might give the families a little bit of closure.” Sam bit his lip, and Cas knew he was remembering the grief in the Thompson house. Closure wouldn’t help that family for a long, long time.

            “I’m going to take a shower before we go,” Sam announced. He got up and headed to the bathroom. The minute the water started running, Dean grabbed Cas’ hands.

            “Babe, are you sure this is going to work?”

            “Well, it will not if this ghost is not a Woman in White. But we may still attract the ghost. Don’t worry, Dean, we’ll be home in time to greet your family.”

            “That’s not really what I’m worried about. I mean…will it count as you being unfaithful to me?”

            “I told you, only as far as necessary, Dean.”

            Dean sighed. “Have we even been—have we been together long enough?”

            By now, Cas was fluent in Winchester, particularly the Dean variety. “You mean more to me than anyone else living, Dean Winchester. I love you deeply. Any act against that would be a great betrayal. I’d deserve to be killed by a ghost were I unfaithful.”

            Dean’s breathing was still a little bit shaky, but he nodded. “Sorry. I guess I…I guess I still need to hear that. I love you too.”

            Cas pulled Dean into his arms, wishing away his anger. It was no good to Dean right now. “You know, if you’re worried that the Woman in White might need convincing…”

            Dean smirked. He was out of his shirt in a minute, which conveniently was right when Sam came out of the bathroom.

            “FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!”

            “THIS IS OUR ROOM, ASSHAT.”

            Sam just slammed the bathroom door shut.

            Dean laughed, and the pressure in Cas’ chest loosened. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone enjoyed!   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	6. To the House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're all on the road, and everything's going to plan...until it isn't.

“Are we there yet?”

            “Sammy, I swear to Chuck—”

            “Shouldn’t you be swearing to Amara?”

            Dean glared at his little brother. “I can swear to whatever cosmic sibling I want, bitch.”

            “Jerk. Are we there yet?”

            “ _No._ This is what happens when you only take backroads.”

            They hit another bump and Dean swore, apologizing to Mr. Grant’s car quietly. Women in White liked highways, so the only way they could drive to the Johnson house was along old backroads and used-to-be-backroads.

            “Are we—”

            “Sam. I will eat you.”

            “Not that. Are we moving too quickly?”

            Dean glanced at Sam. “You were the one who said go.”

            “I was. But…but now I’m not so sure.”

            Dean drove around a pot-ditch. “I know.” There was something off about this entire case, more so than the orientations of the victims. “But it’s supernatural, so it’s our gig. And if it isn’t a Woman in White, at least we’ve got it narrowed down. And if something goes wrong, we have my Cas.”

            “Oh my Amara. _My_ Cas, eh?”

            The old Dean would have told Sam to shut up. The new Dean just blushed.

            “I’m happy for you,” Sam said. “Just so you know.”

            “Thanks.” Dean remembered just before they left, that look in Sam’s eyes when they talked about the trip. “You realize that Cas loves you too, right? Not the same way that he loves me, but he cares about you a lot.”

            Sam was quiet for a second. “Thanks.”

            “You know you’re still important to both of us. That hasn’t changed.”

            “You sound like divorced parents.” Sam still wasn’t quite smiling. “I know, but it felt like…I don’t know. As much as I wanted you two to be together, before we were both his friend. And now I…I don’t want to be in the way.”

            “The only time you’re in the way is when we’re having sex,” Dean said bluntly. “And we’ve got to be more careful about where we bang, but Sam, you’re family. To both of us. We don’t want you gone. We kinda just want you to start respecting socks on the door.”

            “Gross.” But Sam was smiling now. “I can do that.”

            “Good. End of conversation.” Dean rolled his eyes. “We don’t want you around, the idea.”

            A few minutes later, Dean spotted the house. He stopped the car and got out. Sam followed him.

            “We’re here, Sammy.”

            “Yeah, I know.”

            “You’re such a—”

            Sam grabbed his arm. “Quiet. Just in case.”

            Dean nodded, forgetting Sam couldn’t see him. Then he tapped Sam’s arm in affirmative. There was a theory in the hunting community—when dealing with a Woman in White, don’t make too much noise at her house. It could lure her back, which kind of went against their plans with Cas.

            Instead, Dean took out his phone and texted Cas.

            _We’re here, babe._

The response came a moment later.

            _I love you._

Dean froze. “She’s with him, Sam.”

            Sam immediately quickened his pace. Dean followed, the shotgun bouncing against his back. _It’s just a Woman in White. Cas will be fine._

            The house was in much worse shape than Constance’s—it was barely held together. The only part that actually looked like a house was just off the sagging porch. The moon was coming out now, and Dean saw Sam motion towards it.

            Carefully, the two of them eased their way onto the porch and through the gaping hole where a door must have been. The room was covered in dust, and there were sticks of old furniture, but other than that it was empty.

            “I wonder why this place hasn’t been torn down yet,” Dean muttered.

            “It was lived in until about fifty years ago,” Sam whispered.

            In the distance, Dean heard a familiar rumble.

            “There’s Cas.”

**********

            Cas had thought it might be harder to find the Woman in White.

            Sam and Dean had left a few hours before, and he’d spent those hours alone in the hotel room, waiting for darkness to fall. Finally, just after sunset, Cas got into the Impala and drove back to Joshua.

            He could feel the grief of the little town as he approached, and he grimaced. That was one of the unpleasant parts of his powers—before he’d met Dean, the emotions of humans had moved him to pity, but had never assaulted him in this way. His time spent human had given him a chance to feel how horrible grief could be, and now it was compassion, not pity, that moved his prayer.

            “Father, help these people find hope again. And let us give them justice tonight.”

            He continued driving out to the highway, slow enough that he could see the empty fields passing by. His phone pinged twice, and he answered the texts quickly—‘see you later’. That would tell Dean that he hadn’t encountered the ghost yet.

            And then, ten minutes after his last text, he spotted her. A woman wearing a thin white dress and an even thinner shawl stood by the side of the road.

            Castiel pulled over. “May I help you?” he asked.

            “Can you take me home?” the woman asked. Her form flickered, just a bit. Definitely a ghost.

            “Of course. Can you give me directions?”

            The woman approached the car slowly. As she got settled, Cas’ phone went off.

            He texted _I love you,_ and put the car in drive.

            “Who were you talking to?”

            “My boyfriend,” Cas replied. “Where am I taking you?”

            The woman was quiet, only speaking to give directions. But as they drove her shawl came off and her skirt hitched up higher and higher. Cas shot her a couple of what he hoped were meaningful looks.

            “Why were you alone?” he asked her.

            The ghost looked at him. “Does it matter? I’m with you now.”

            The words could have been seductive, a temptation to forget the past and concentrate on the present. Instead, the words were dull, dropping into the silence of the car.

            Cas smiled encouragingly. “Are we nearly there?”

            “Just the next bend.”

            Something was wrong. This woman wasn’t trying to be seductive at all. Even the baring of her skin had been done with great reluctance. But she was a ghost; Cas could tell. Everything here pointed to a Woman in White, so what was the missing piece?

***********************

            “Sam, get down,” Dean hissed. The Impala wasn’t that close, but Baby’s headlights were powerful, and the last thing he wanted was for the Woman to jump them early.

            “How much further down do you want me, Dean?” Sam hissed back. He was crouching, his back to the window, frowning at the EMF reader. There was only faint beeping coming from it.

            “Where are the children?” Dean asked.

            “I don’t know. There’s no second floor here. And I’m not sensing anything…”

            “Did they…maybe they only appear when their mother comes home?”

            “No idea.”

            Dean ground his teeth in frustration. The entire house felt strange, and it was starting to get to him. He wanted to call out for Cas, to warn him, but what was there to warn him about? ‘Oh, we’re ghost-hunting, and I have a bad feeling?’

            Through the window, Dean saw the Impala in the moonlight, driving up the long path to the house. Dean let out a deep breath. Cas was here now, and he had the ghost lady with him. Now they just needed to waste her…

            *********

            Cas could see the house up ahead, and he knew Sam and Dean were there.

            “This is your home, yes?” he asked the woman.

            He turned to her, half-expecting her to try and kiss him, or something. Anything to assuage the worry in his mind. To his shock, he saw that the woman was crying.

            “I’m sorry,” she gasped. And her face was changing, her form shifting into a different woman, with black curly hair and a million freckles. Cas shrank away from her, suddenly afraid for the first time.

            “I didn’t want to,” the woman sobbed. “He made me. I’m sorry!”

            And she _shoved_ at Cas.

            The car went flying into the air. Cas struggled to hold on to the steering wheel as the Impala rolled three times. It landed right side up, but the doors were badly mangled. Cas could tell he was bleeding from several places, but nothing too serious.

            The ghost was gone from the car. When Cas managed to look outside, he realized that he was in a wide field. Even with his keen eyesight, he could hardly see the house.

            _Sam. Dean._

And with that thought, the house burst into flames.

********

            The crash sent them both to their feet. Dean cried out in horror as he saw the Impala flip in the air, soaring over to the next field.

            “What the hell?”

            “I’m sorry!”

            Dean whipped around and saw a ghostly woman standing there. But she wasn’t wearing white; instead, she wore modern clothes and her hair hung past her elbows.

            “You’re not Prudence,” Dean said stupidly.

            “I’m sorry!” the ghost gasped again. “I’m sorry. You need to run! He’ll get you!”

            “Who?”  
            The woman started to wail. Dean watched in horror as the ghostly figure was dragged across the room, shrinking as she did. The last light of her went into a jar.

            Someone picked up the jar.

            Dean raised his gun; Sam was beside him.

            The figure snapped their fingers, and a strange glow came into the room.

            Dean nearly dropped his gun.

            John Winchester stood in the room with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) :) :) :)   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	7. Daddy Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys face a startling sight: their father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I got some indignant notes about the cliffhanger, so here we go!   
> Warning for some nasty language, including a homophobic slur.

            “Dad?”

            Sam was still trying to catch his breath. Their father was standing there, not quite solid, still dead for sure. Sam had enough experiences with people coming back from the dead to tell by now; there was something about their shadows.

            “How?” Dean asked.

            John shrugged. “Well, you boys set me free, after all. Good job, opening a Gate to Hell.”

            Sam almost wanted to say, _wow, are you behind a few years,_ but John beat him to it.

            “But that was you getting started, wasn’t it?” John’s eyes were cold, and when he stepped closer Sam couldn’t help but flinch.

            “Dad, what’s going on?”

            “I thought I’d bring you boys on a little trip down memory lane.” John held up the jar. “Woman in White, that was the first case I sent you on together, remember? Right before your pretty girlfriend burned, Sammy?”

            Sam felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. “You killed—you killed those boys?” _Don’t think about Jess, don’t think about Jess._

“Two brothers in a little town, both abominations of love.” John advanced on Dean. “Seemed about right.”

            Dean shot, but John dodged the rock salt. “Dad, just fight it. Hell fucked you up, this isn’t you talking.”

            John laughed. “You really believe that, Dean? I’m touched.”

            Sam fired two shots into John’s head. The ghost dissipated with a snarl, and Sam ran to Dean’s side.

            John reappeared a second later on the other side of the room. “Hell just removed my filter, sons, and now I’ve got a chance to do what I should’ve done myself.” The hate in his eyes when he looked at Sam pierced him like a knife. “You abomination, you killed your mother. Good thing your girlfriend died before she found out what you were.”

            “Don’t you fucking dare say that to him!” Dean fired off a shot, but John reappeared by the windows. “He didn’t have a choice, and he’s a better man than anyone gave him credit to be.”

            “You’re a great judge of character, aren’t you Dean?” John’s eyes glittered. “I gave you one job, _one_ job. And you turned out to be just as much a monster-lover as your brother. Fucking an angel, really? Bad enough you’re a faggot.” He raised his hands. “You two disappoint me. Your mother would be ashamed of you both.”

            “Really?”

            “Yes. Shame you’ll never find out.”

            John snapped his fingers, and the room burst into flames. “Hellfire,” he said conversationally.  “Seems appropriate for you two.” He tossed the jar into the centre of the room, the trapped ghost glowing brightly. “Go on, try to get out.”

            Sam looked around desperately. The smoke was already thick, and Sam coughed. His lungs remembered this feeling, heavier and darker than breathing normal smoke. _We’re going to suffocate before we burn._

            Dean was already on the ground, hacking. Sam raised his gun and shot at where John had been a moment before, but he heard the shell crack off the window.

“Pathetic.” That was his father’s voice. “Pathetic little _freaks_.”

            Then the smoke and flames vanished, gone as if they were never there. The room was still bright, and it took Sam’s eyes a moment to adjust. It was the Impala’s headlights, the familiar beams lighting up the room.

            A figure stood where the windows had been a second before.

            “ _Ualolina Nolil.”_ Cas’ blade was out, his eyes glowing blue. “What do you think you’re doing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnnnddd I gave you another one :)   
> I TOLD YOU THE BEST PART WOULD BE ON CHRISTMAS   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	8. Avenging Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas has a discussion with John Winchester

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 25th of December--if it has special meaning for you, great, if not, hey, it's a beautiful day :) Well, it is now, it was storming earlier :)   
> Warning (positively) for violence!

            Dean was bewildered, still coughing as Sam pulled him to his feet. Cas stood deadly still, eyes locked with John’s.

            “Get out of here, you—”

            Cas waved his hand and John went crashing into the wall, hitting it solidly.

            “I asked you a question,” Cas growled, and Dean shivered. Cas had never sounded quite so…vengeful. “How dare you harm them? You are not worthy to look upon them, let alone judge them!”

            John struggled to his feet. For a second his face softened, and he looked scared. “Dean? Sam? I’m sorry boys. This vengeful thing—it’s fucked me up. You were right.”

            “Oh, no.” Cas was across the room in one stride. He grabbed their father and slammed him against the wall again. “No, John. You don’t get to pretend with these men anymore.” He punched him across the face.

            Dean couldn’t do anything except stare.

            “Let me go you fucking freak!”

            Cas punched him again. “You used your sons. You abused them. You left them to die, and you betrayed their trust. Your wife’s death is no excuse for you to become the biggest monster in their life.”

            “I did my fucking best!” John swung at Cas, but he blocked it easily.

            “Your best would have been to understand the wrongness in your own brain, your broken spirit. You could have loved them. Instead you let your loyalty to a dead woman blind you to the children you had living, who needed you, who needed guidance and safety and love! List all the excuses you want, but the moment you decided to bait a shtriga with your children, you forfeited any forgiveness.”

            “What?” Dean croaked.

            John looked scared now, and he struggled violently against Cas’ hold. Cas held him impossibly still. The angel looked over at Dean, a deep sadness in his eyes tempering the fierceness in his face. “You didn’t know, dearest?”

            “Know what?”

            “Tell them, John.” Cas ordered. “Tell them what you did.”

            “Go to hell. I didn’t do anything wrong! If Dean had been where he should, it would have been—”

            “You left your sons alone, late into the night, when you were hunting a shtriga. And Sam was asleep. What would have happened, John, if Dean had stayed in the room and fallen asleep?”

            “He was on the job!”

            Dean felt cold all over. “I was ten,” he whispered.

            “You were old enough to do your job!”

            Sam leapt forward and landed a blow on John. “You motherfucking asshole! You—”

            But he got cut off when in a burst of strength John threw both Sam and Cas off. Sam fell hard, and even Cas was thrown back.

            _He’s not going away,_ Dean realized. Cas could keep hitting him, but something was tethering John to Earth.

            _I want him gone. We need him gone._

Then Dean figured it out.       

            He sprinted outside. Baby was badly dented but the trunk looked okay. Dean yanked it open and dug around until he found what he needed. He spared one last glance at the object before running back inside.

            Sam was back on his feet, leaning against the wall as Cas grappled with John.

            “Hey, John!” Dean shouted. He held up his father’s journal.

            Everyone stopped moving. Dean clicked his lighter and held it up.

            “Dean!” John’s face softened again. “I’m sorry, son. I am. I fucked up. But you’re still my boy. I love you. Give me a chance!”

            “Sorry, Dad.” Dean lit the papers; they caught like kindling. “I couldn’t save you. It’s not my job.”

            John started screaming, his ghostly figure coming apart.

            Sam raised his gun, emptying it until John vanished. The journal’s cover was still smoldering.

            “Dean?” Cas was beside him now. “I can finish it.”

            “Do it,” Dean whispered.

            A burst of fire came from Cas’ hand, and the journal turned into ash in an instant.

            Dean took a deep breath. John was gone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The shtriga thing has been my headcanon for quite a while, and I needed to vent!   
> Next chapter, Team Free Will needs some TLC.   
> Cheers,  
> Acme   
> P.S. And for any with doubts, yes, that was really John. He was lying about the vengeful thing.


	9. Recuperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas looks after the Winchesters in the aftermath of John's attack.

            Cas caught Dean before he collapsed. Sam was across the room, sinking to his knees.

            “I will take you both home,” Cas whispered. But he had one thing to do first. He summoned the jar, and examined the spirit inside.

            “That’s not Prudence, is it?” It was Sam’s voice, but…but not really Sam.

            “No.” Cas cursed himself for not realizing it sooner. “This is the spirit of a girl named Marie. She died a year ago in a car crash. I suppose he found her and forced her to work. He was a more experienced spirit.”  

            Cas unscrewed the cap. “Go to Heaven, Marie. You are free now, and forgiven for your crimes.” By him at least, but he had a feeling that his father would be understanding.

            “Come here, Sam.” Once Sam had gotten close enough for Cas to touch his arm, he flew back to the Bunker.

            “The Impala…” Dean mumbled. He was shaking against Cas now.

            Cas snapped his fingers. “She’s in the garage, Dean. I will fix her completely tomorrow. Right now you and your brother need my care.” He hesitated for a moment—it wasn’t really finished, it was messy—but he got Sam to his feet. “Follow me.”

            Cas led both brothers down the Bunker halls, past his and Dean’s room, past Sam’s room, past the library.

            “Where’re we going?” Sam mumbled. The younger Winchester was pale, and his eyes were just…empty.

            Cas opened the door at the end of the hall. “In here.”

            The room was just as he’d left it; stuffed with pillows, blankets, and soft chairs. It still needed a few touches, but it would do for now.

            Dean lifted his head from Cas’ shoulder. “This—this feels like you.”

            “It’s my nest,” Cas explained. “Well, a nest. I thought it would be nice to have a place to relax for our family. For all our family. Sam, lie down please. I’ll take a look at your head.”

            Sam obeyed silently, choosing the nearest pillow pile and sinking into it with a quiet sigh. Cas removed his trench coat and helped Dean lay down as well. He touched two fingers to Sam’s head, healing the brewing concussion and developing bruises.

            “Are you injured, Dean?”

            “Just bruises,” Dean mumbled. His skin was cool when Cas touched him, and he didn’t respond to Cas’ worried surge of Grace.

            Cas stepped away and grabbed the two biggest, warmest blankets he could see, and spread them out over the brothers. “You’re both in shock,” he whispered. “Can I get you anything?”

            “Come here?” Dean whispered.

            Cas laid down between the two. He was expecting Dean’s embrace, but Sam’s arms winding around him and Dean together was a bit more of a surprise. The big man was clinging to them both, and he was shaking now too. Cas pressed his lips together.

            “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I had no idea.”

            Sam had started to cry, tears pouring down his face without a sound. Dean wasn’t crying, not yet, but he was nearly there.

            “I promise, you are safe from him now.” Cas took Dean’s hand in his. “You’ll never have to see him again.”

            Dean’s whole body went rigid. “Wait—what about—Impala—”

            “In the garage, Dean,” Cas reminded him, rubbing his thumb over Dean’s knuckles. “She’s good as new.”

            “No, that’s not—” Sam’s eyes were wild with horror. “Is that—is that a tether too?”

            Then Cas understood, and his heart broke again. “No,” he said. “No, I promise it isn’t.”      

            “How d-do you know?”

            “I couldn’t feel your father in the journal because it wasn’t a very strong tether,” Cas explained. He rubbed Sam’s shoulder, trying to warm him up. “Usually when a ghost remains, it’s through a stronger pull. I am not sure why he was able to hold on for so long; it might have something to do with his sojourn in Hell. But there is nothing of him in the Impala, or even that leather jacket. You’ve made those objects a part of your lives, not his. The last traces of him are gone now.”

            Sam let out a huge, shuddering sigh, and Cas could hear the sobs building in Dean’s throat. He moved so he was laying on his back, the brothers on either side of him. “Let it go,” he said. “Let him go.”

            Dean had his face in Cas’ shoulder, and Sam was still reaching over to Dean, so he was pressed against Cas. Cas wondered if he should move, let the brothers grieve alone, but when Cas tried to get up Sam clung to him.

            “Stay?”

            “Of course.” And Cas did, through the long hour of tears, murmuring reassurance as best he could, his heart aching as Sam admitted how broken he felt, as Dean screamed silently with rage and pain. And when the brothers fell asleep at last, Cas stayed awake, protecting their dreams from the nightmares that tried to crawl in. Not _his_ boys. Not this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Tomorrow we'll wrap up this little story!   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	10. Epilogue: Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The surprising aftermath of the case, where Sam and Dean go for a drive, Cas has a family meeting, and people come home.

When Sam woke up he felt lighter, better than he had in ages. He stretched, and saw Cas looking at him in amusement.

“What’s so funny?”

“You snore.”

“I do not!”

“Yes you do.” Dean was standing at the door to the…nest, it was the nest. He had a tray of breakfast. “Only once in a while, but when you do it sounds like a chainsaw in heat.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Sam sat up and took his plate. As he dug in, he saw Cas glancing between him and Dean.

“What is it, babe?” Dean asked at last. “You’re freaking us out.”

“How do you feel?” Cas asked.

Sam looked at Dean. “We’re…I think it’s going to be okay. We’ll be okay. That wasn’t easy…” he could still feel his father’s hand slamming into his head, still hear the hurtful words…but there was distance now. “But it’s a bit easier to live with him hating us than trying to…”

“Than trying to figure out if he loved us,” Dean finished.

“You both deserved better.”

“We have plenty.” Sam said. “We have our home, and a family who loves us.” Then he sat bolt upright. “What about the families? We need to tell them why James and Tyler died.” He took out his phone. “I’ll call Rita.” He dialed the number, trying to figure out what to say. How could he explain that her husband had died because of Sam’s family?

“Hello?” It was a man’s voice. It should have been Isaac, but it didn’t sound quite right.

“Hi, this is Sam. We spoke yesterday.”

“We did? I was in a coma yesterday man, I don’t think it was me.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “Tyler?”

“Hi. Oh, are you the blogger? Rita, baby, was the blogger dude’s name Sam?”

There was a quick shift. “Hi Sam.” That was Rita’s voice, breathless and happy. “Yes, he woke up, isn’t it wonderful?”

“Woke up?” Sam stared at Dean and Cas.

“Yeah. Looks like you and your partners weren’t necessary. The explosion was ruled to be accidental.”

“Rita...” Sam had no clue what to say. “I thought Tyler wasn’t…going to make it.”

“It sure looked like that. He and his brother were in bad shape; that old Jennings place was a death trap waiting to happen. They shouldn’t have been _anywhere near there,_ right, honey?”

“Yes, honey.” Tyler’s voice had a laugh in it, and Sam blinked hard.

 “Well that’s great to hear. I…well, you lose hope in this job sometimes. I’m glad to be proven wrong.”

“Me too.”

Sam heard a baby crying.

“Sorry, Sam, I’ve got to go. Baby’s demanding food. Mr. Grant will probably call your partner Dean later on.”

“He’ll be glad to talk to him,” Sam said. “Have a good day, okay? All of you.” He hung up and stared at Cas and Dean.

“They’re okay?” Dean asked.

“Rita said they’d recovered from being in an explosion at the Johnson place,” Sam replied. “Apparently they were both in comas yesterday, but they’ve woken up and they’re home.”

“But—” Cas stopped himself. “What a miracle.”

“You think?”

“Yes.” Cas looked overwhelmed. “I suppose my father answered my prayer.”

Sam remembered the grief-stricken house of the day before. “I’m glad.”

Dean nodded. “Hang on, what day is it again?”

“They’re coming tomorrow,” Cas replied.

Sam caught his breath. He’d almost forgotten. _Tomorrow, their family was starting to come home tomorrow._

“Then we’ve got time for a drive.” Dean stood. “Sammy, want to go?”

“Sure.” Sam looked at Cas, but the angel shook his head.  

“I have some business in Heaven. I will return when you’re finished.”

A few minutes later, Sam was in the passenger seat of the Impala, and Dean was gunning the engine and roaring down the highway. Sam looked at his brother, and was struck by the way he was sitting. His shoulders were looser, his eyes were bright, and when he smiled at Sam, there was no guilt in them. There was no sense of failure.

Sam rolled the window down. “How fast do you think we can go?”

Dean laughed. “Sammy, let’s find out.” He hit play on the cassette, and AC/DC started blaring.

********

Cas landed in Heaven’s throne room, and the first thing he saw was that the name should really be ‘thrones room’. Both his Father and Amara were sitting on elegantly carved chairs; Father’s looked mahogany, while Amara’s looked like marble. They weren’t, of course, they were carved pieces of pure energy, but Cas supposed they had to look like something.

Both deities looked worried. “How are Dean and Sam?” Amara asked.

“Mending.” Cas considered the two. “Which one of you brought James and Tyler back?”

“I did,” Father said. “Amara dealt with the details.”

“I thought so.”

“What do you mean, nephew?”

“People with comas aren’t sent home the morning they wake up.”

“Even when they’re perfectly healthy?” Amara exclaimed.

“They’re not supposed to be perfectly healthy.”

Amara shrugged. “Oh well. Food for thought. That was easier, and their families missed them.”

Cas smiled, but it faded quickly. “Where is John Winchester?”

A wave of anger poured from the thrones, and Cas shuddered.

“He is in Hell,” Father said. “Crowley has promised to continue what you started, Castiel.”

Cas thought of the demon—infuriating, treacherous, but fiercely loyal to Sam and Dean Winchester in his own way—and smiled. “Good enough.”

“Amara, would you give us a moment?” Father asked.

“No, Father. I am not angry with you.”

Father blinked. “Oh. I was sure you would be.”

“Did you kill James Grant and Tyler Thompson?”

“No. But I knew who did it, and I knew your path would lead you there. I warned you as best I could.”

“You were right to let it happen. I would not wish the pain of that encounter on Sam and Dean…but they needed to see for themselves. They needed to lay him to rest seeing what he truly was. They got their answers, and I hope that will help them move forward.”

“I suppose you’ve gotten your own answers, Castiel.”

Cas thought of that long year of desperate searching, all the painful years of seeing everything he trusted and believed in questioned, missing, broken…but in the end, someone who found their courage and came back.

“Not yet, Father. There’s still some time.”

Father looked hopeful.

“I know that you care,” Cas said, and there was an all-too-human lump in his throat. “That’s all I need for now. I’m lucky, I suppose—Sam and Dean know their father didn’t.”

Father nodded. “Thank you, Castiel.” He cleared his throat. “On that subject, I think two people can come back today. Amara figured out a way to balance the souls more efficiently.”

“Crowley was a good teacher,” Amara said with a grin.

Cas beamed. “And it will be the two we discussed? Are they…aware of what’s happened?”

Father nodded. “They both know. They’re ready.”

“Of course they are. I can escort them back, if you like?”

Father nodded. “Go ahead, Cas. And know that I…I will work to be worthy of your faith.”

“I’ll try as well, nephew. Your faith is inspiring.”

Cas bowed to them both, and left the room.

*********

Dean parked Baby and leaned back in the seat with a sigh. Sam was half-asleep in the passenger seat—kid looked more relaxed than Dean had seen him in years, and a relaxed Sam was a sleepy Sam. Not Dean, though—he was wide awake, and every breath felt easy. He shook his brother’s shoulder. “C’mon, Sammy. We’re home.”

Sam blinked. “I wasn’t asleep.”

“Need a nap?”

“Dude, you nap too!”

“No, Sammy, I power sleep in short bursts. There’s a difference.”

“Sure there is.” Sam got out of the car. “That’s why you need nap music.”

Dean was about to retort when he heard wings flapping. Smiling, he got out and came face to face with his Cas. “Hey babe, great timing.” He kissed Cas, delighted by how easy it was to kiss him at last. “How was Heaven?”

“It was nice.” Cas had the glow he always got when he walked on holy ground, and his eyes were soft and fond. It had been ages since Dean had seen him like that. “I brought back gifts.”

Dean didn’t understand, but Sam sucked in his breath. “Do you mean—”

“My father and aunt were able to begin this process early,” Cas confirmed. “Your parents are back.”

For one stuttering heartbeat Dean was afraid again. Had Chuck not understood? Didn’t he know?

Then he heard a fondly muttered “hello, idjits,” and Dean spun around.

“Dad!”  

Bobby stood in the garage’s door. He came towards them with his arms open, and Sam got to him first, Dean only a step behind.

“Alright, sons. Alright.” Bobby patted Dean’s head. “I’m here.”

Dean hugged Bobby as tight as he could. For a minute, he forgot everything else. Their dad was here, and he was the first to come, and they could have the rest of their lives together in a world where there wasn’t an annual apocalypse.

But then Bobby let go, and Dean saw behind him a blonde woman with a plaid shirt and a silver charm bracelet, with a smile that Dean had almost forgotten.

“Mom?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed this little story!   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


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